Work Text:
You jealous, Ronnie?
Veronica’s brain had been screaming at her to lie through her teeth. She got her chance, right? She got her little moment with Archie Andrews, the briefest of them all before it got snatched up, went into the air like smoke.
It was like they’d exited that closet only to turn and find that the flame they’d lit had left it burned and falling apart behind them. No more possibility, no nothing. And really, she should have pushed it aside before that, even if he looked at her in a way sometimes with this expression on his face. Like she was the sun and he was completely in awe.
The memory of their seven minutes stuck out in her head and the taste of his mouth haunted her well after she’d gone to bed and sent a million apology messages to Betty. She wanted… No, she had needed to stop being that girl. The one that picked something she wanted over loyalty and friendship, the one who saw a limitation being placed for a reason and barged right through it anyway, no matter who she hurt. There was no manipulating her way out of it this time, there was only grovelling and letting everything with Archie go. They could always be friends, she told herself. They would be friends, good friends.
It was a reminder of it all when he asked her if she was jealous of Valerie.
Of course, she had nothing against the other girl, their conversations had been brief at best but they’d been pleasant. That wasn’t her issue at all, but hearing the nickname leave his lips, the way he had looked at her, it was a reminder that she could be jealous. She’s kissed him in that closet, even if it was small, it was something. She’d almost touched her finger tips to her lips like that was where the memory resided.
And she remembered too that there was a similar look on his face to the one she was wearing in that moment back before the fiasco of her first date in Riverdale. It was fair enough then, the wound was fresher but she still felt as if she was treading water all that time later.
Still, she lied anyway, the words slipping from her mouth with the confidence of someone who knew the meaning of fake it till you make it very well.
Veronica wasn’t going to make herself into someone for him to pity. She wasn’t going to admit anything that might make her look like some sad, lonely girl. It seemed maybe he’d already moved on, although she didn’t want to believe that. Even when she walked away all she wanted to do was turn on her heel and run back. She wanted to go back to sitting in that chair, hold his hand and say yes. Maybe she’d press herself into the crook of his neck, tell him that they shouldn’t give up with a soft, tentative voice. She’d ignore the sweat and the fact that time had passed and she was putting herself able to get hurt. Maybe Betty would move on. Maybe it would be easier.
She kept walking. She took things day by day, week by week.
The concept of Veronica being jealous became reality but she believed she hid it well. She picked things to focus on – her love of cinema, Cheryl, joining a girl band. It had hit her like a tonne of bricks when she saw her mother kissing Fred Andrews and then, as if she hadn’t done enough, the way she just took things she wanted. She asked for something and then her daughter denied it she took it upon herself to take it anyway, by any means necessary.
That used to be Veronica, that’s why it bothered her. Finding out her mother had forged her signature was hurtful because Veronica was trying to be different, better, yet it didn’t stop everyone from taking exactly what they wanted.
Maybe she wished Archie would do it so she wouldn’t have to, although it was just a fleeting thought.
She just needed someone.
It wasn’t like she was the one throwing away a marriage or committing crimes, it was just one thing. She just needed to talk to someone. She needed comfort and she’d given him enough to help him sing on that stage, hadn’t she?
She’d been sweet, glitter on her eyes and a smile on her lips. She’d used careful hands to fix his tie, encouraged him. It wasn’t like it was hard to reassure him, she meant every word. She would have gone out on that stage still in her pussycat outfit if he needed her too. She’d licked her painted lips and watched from the side of the stage until they went down to sit in the audience and she’d felt so proud and… Shouldn’t he want to make her feel better too?
Besides, Betty wasn’t answering her texts. Josie was a no-go for dumping her problems on after what her father had done. She liked Kevin, but not enough to tell him about what her mother had done. She hadn’t heard from Cheryl and she also wasn’t sure she trusted her with personal information... So she’d called Archie with her heels clicking on the sidewalk and he’d answered breathless and laughing.
“Hey, Ronnie. What’s up?”
And Veronica hadn’t known what to say. She just said the first thing she thought of. “Are you busy right now? I was going to find you but I kind of left in a hurry.”
He laughed again and then there was a girl laughing too and she knew right away that it was Valerie. “Val and I are – uh – we’re just celebrating.”
She’d hung up and sent a text about her phone cutting out and not to worry about it.
Veronica didn’t know how to be the disappointed girl. That had never been her role. She was well practised in the fall from grace by now, but in Riverdale she’d never expected to feel like there was more being taken from her. It wasn't like it was her biggest problem by any means, but there was no avoiding Archie. Even when it was confirmed that he was dating Valerie, she hadn’t let herself think enough about it to acknowledge her jealousy. She had a life to focus on, she had her own messes to deal with.
She told herself to smile and be happy. They’d be a great couple. She’d be all the muse he needed, she’d help with his song-writing. Veronica would never allow herself to be insecure but seeing them together as a couple for the first time had made her flight response kick in. She made it halfway down the hall before she remembered who she was.
Veronica Lodge didn’t run. She stuck through it, she stood taller than everyone else because she could take anything. Even if it hurt – and it did, it felt awful to wonder what could have been, to watch him be content with someone else.
The next time they were alone it was far from a closet. Valerie was in the bathroom and Betty hadn’t arrived yet and Veronica was staring at the table in their booth. Archie on the other side was staring at her hands as she rolled a bit of an old sticker she’d peeled from a book between her fingers.
“What do you think?” He’d asked and she glanced up, smoothed her expression over.
“About what?” She’d replied, letting her brows knit together in measured confusion although she knew what he was getting at.
“Come on, Ronnie. I wanna know your opinion. You think we’re a good match?” He was hunched over, his broad shoulders taking up space along the booth now that he had shuffled over, closer to the middle where she was on the other side. She wished she could look away from him, her graze trailing up a shoulder to his face as she considered her answer.
Lie, lie, lie, lie, she told herself.
“Perfect, Archie. I think you’re perfect for each other.”
He was doing it again, that look. At least Veronica was still the sun.